


Unalike

by Dimension_K166



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, Youtubers
Genre: Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, EndermanPrince!Dream, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Human!George, M/M, Minor Violence, Monster Boyfriend, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26120413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dimension_K166/pseuds/Dimension_K166
Summary: Dream is the last prince of the Endermen. After losing everything in the war when he was just a toddler, he's finally grown up into a hunter and now wanders the lands with only one goal in sight: avenge the death of his family by killing the human species who took them from him. But all of that changes the day he met a certain human boy...
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 252





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first Dreamnotfound fic and definitly won't be my last! This story will not have a sequel so I'm sorry, but I will wrap it up super nicely <3
> 
> Artwork done by me of what this Ender-Dream looks like will be at the end of this chapter, along with a cute sketch~
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

**_Tck-_ **

**_Tch-_ **

**_Tsshhhooosh-!_ **

A plethora of shadows started to dance among the walls of the cave as the newly lit campfire illuminated the small space that surrounded him. He was the only shadow that stood out from the rest, deep and dark while the shadows of his many small bags and plates of armor that scattered around the floor didn't make much of a footprint compared to his own. He was alone, he has always been, and now he gave a slight smile in the courtesy of the flames rising from the small bunch of dry grass to finally spread onto his perfectly placed pile of sticks.

_Starting the fire ended up easier than usual tonight._

Setting down his flint and steel, his fingers wrapped around a few dead rabbits that hung by their feet from one bag, his most recent victims to the many traps he kept in the woods nearby. It was time to skin them when he finally felt confident the flames would stay, starting to delicately slice around flesh and fur of the first with a small iron dagger he picked up earlier off of a human.

He was thankful that more than one of his traps were successful. It’s been a hot minute since he’s had a good meal, a long time with the shortage of food, and even in the middle of skinning the animal he couldn't help but drool a little. But he still had control and he had patience, unlike the other Enderfolk, and when he was done he held the meat over the fire by an iron bar.

Every morning like clockwork he returned back to this same spot, the same damp, dark cave that’s been called home for quite some time now. He knows he’ll soon need to move on and scour the land for the next spot to peacefully thrive in, away from the others that inhabit the same territory, but he couldn't bear to leave this place so soon. It was almost perfect, completely out of the way no creature nor human could stumble in unannounced. And even if one did, the loose gravel covering the floor was the perfect alarm system to catch any crook.

_One footstep and his eyes would shoot open._

Thankfully he has only done this once, and it was only because a few bats were fighting over territory above him and they both fell hard to the ground. So one can say he was really counting his blessings, no run-ins with the undead nor the hissing freaks of the night, and best of all no humans had yet to disturb his humble abode.

His dark eyes dart down to the rabbits encased in flames, their raw skin has begun to darken and soon they would be a perfect, golden brown. Another smile pulled at his lips and his tongue pressed against the back of his fangs, his stomach growled in anticipation and his fingers gripped tighter at the rod he held. He would be rather ashamed at such a reaction over food, but it’s been too long since he’s had possession over some so this time he let his poor manners slide all while staring down at the delicious meat like a hungry cat and mouse.

“Finally…” He spoke above a whisper to no one in particular, he couldn't help himself at admiring his perfect cooking and soon the meat was brought up to his lips, sinking his teeth into it like one devours a kebab.

He might have cried that moment, even just a little while continuing to munch and keen at the happy feeling deep in his gut. The pain it used to have was finally gone after nearly four days going without food. He wouldn’t call himself the worst hunter, by god he was _far_ from “bad”. The difficulty of finding food these days was all due to the ever growing numbers of undead in the area, he felt as if the corpses followed his every move to a new home. But he chopped it up to creatures so vile will always flock to thriving green pastures, dripping them dry of life to move onto the next, similar to a swarm of locusts destroying whole forests.

That was one thing humans shared with the undead, he’s been observing this for quite the handful of decades. The way they reep the land as if they were mindless barbarians, deforesting whole forests to nothing, gathering every animal for miles just to confine them in a small space, wearing pieces of creatures as if they were trophies… 

_Enderman skulls always hit too close to home-_

Brushing his thoughts away he was quick to finish his meal, snuffing out the fire until it was dimly lit to provide enough heat for the night, and by now he got comfortable laying down on piles of furs.

_Has it really been this long on my own..._

He stared up at the ceiling hoping to get lost into it while his hands settled against his full stomach, he focused on every strand of fur brushing up against his spine all the way down to his thighs and the cold, bitter feeling of the rest of his legs against the damp stone floor. Wincing he curled up on his side, bringing his tattered cape over his body like a blanket, and with his back facing the gentle embers of the dying fire… 

  
  


_“My sweet, little Dream…” His mother whispered while holding him tightly to her chest all while multiple guardsmen rushed past them to hold the door. There was a loud crash every time the battering ram met the main doors to the throne room, shrieks rang out while the wood pieces flew and pierced the skin of many knights using their own bodies to keep the intruders at bay._

_She made her way swiftly down a spiraling staircase at the sound of the doors giving way and the many shouts and cries of the brawl following after. Dream held onto his mother, tears in his eyes and soft sobs escaping as his tiny hands gripped tighter to her cloak._

_“Shhh- shhhhhhhhhh… it’s ok, it’s ok…” She cooed, fully sprinting down the halls. They both can hear the sound of metal armor and feet rushing down the stairs, and the shouts of men sounding so foriegn… so frightening…_

_The sight of one finally meeting the last step_ _made his heart drop, and the most petrifying scream he’s ever made escape through his lips._

_His mother ran faster, darting around a corner and throwing the doors open to the outside world. A small group of heavily armored Piglins awaited them._

_“Take him! And run! Get him out of the Nether!” She roughly threw Dream into the arms of one of the pigs. “Go! Now!”_

_“Momma-!“ He cried, watching her turn back to face the many armored men closing in from the hallway._

_The leader of the squad of Piglin soldiers gripped him tightly, sprinting down to the lava docks to hop onto a Strider. Meanwhile the others were left behind to defend the Queen and to give them time to escape all while the royal Enderman toddler in his lap struggled to be free from his hold, wanting nothing less than to get back to his mother._

_“M- mommy…” He weeped, his fists never making the Piglin flinch as he pounded against its chestplate, watching the fallen Palace disappear behind them…_

  
  


He didn't move a muscle when his eyes shot open. It was completely dark within the cave system, the embers of the earlier fire were cooled down to nothing and his own heavy breathing echoed loudly down the slick walls of rock. He could feel his heart race and the cold sweat that formed around his neck as he sighed, closing his eyes to try to calm himself down.

_It’s ok… it’s ok…_

But it really wasn’t ok. His eyes snapped open a second time the moment gravel on the ground skidded, small pebbles clinking their way down towards him. His nightmare was the last of his worries while he listened to the many footsteps that followed and he held in his breath. They sounded like they were getting almost closer, every step misplaced and random as if the stranger was stumbling on its own two feet rather than walking in a straight line. He knew this sound all too well.

_A zombie-_

During this moment many thoughts crowded his mind at once. He was relieved it wasn't a creeper, but disappointed it wasn’t a human for it would've been an easy problem to fix, and out of all things it had to be a zombie. He had to be careful with this one. One bite and it would be all over…

He continued to stay still with his keen ear on his intruder, listening for any others that could’ve wandered in. But to his relief the only sound there was present was that of a single undead having lost its way from its horde. He slowly brought himself up, listening for any changes in footsteps before extending one hand out to his bow and quiver, and the other to his flint and steel. The zombie was still on its way to him, taking brief resprites with every short walking period, and by the sound of it the creature had yet to notice his presence. That was very good news.

Once he felt ready he sprang to his feet, quickly setting the arrow on fire, and shooting it down the spirling corridor of stalactites. The flaming arrow nearly missed the head of the creature, but with this new knowledge of its whereabouts he didn't miss his second time. The next flaming arrow meeting the zombie’s left eye.

It didn't have time to even register its attacker until the third arrow met in the middle of its forehead, bringing it down to slam against the gravel below. He drew a fourth arrow just in case, staring down at the flaming body and listening to any other dangers that could be lurking. The only sounds made after were the flapping of wings of bats and the skittering of a silverfish spooked by the zombie toppling onto the ground with a thud.

Once he felt safe enough he crouched down to sit on his heels, thinking what to do next. Sweat continued to form at the back of his neck and his pulse was still all so quick he felt like his heart was going to burst. All of a sudden he sprang up to the balls of feet to quickly pack everything away, strapping his armor on before rolling up the most furs he can carry. He knew this was bound to happen and feeling his comfortable home become unsafe was the worst feeling of all. 

He had to get out, _find somewhere nicer_ he always told himself, and after slipping his last armor piece over his face he grabbed for his bow and kept his sword sheathed at the hip. He held his bow and arrow at the ready while stepping around the burning corpse that lit his way, holding his breath at the putrid smell the thing was extruding. He quickened his pace up the cave to escape the stench all while gripping his bow tighter in case any more were to appear, his mind always went straight into paranoia during times like these. But hey, it’s kept him alive so far.

When he finally met the mouth of the cave he started to slow, his eyes wincing from the blinding morning light shining down against the bright greens of leaves and whites of birch trees that covered these hills for miles. 

_Ah, the zombie must've wandered in to avoid the sunlight._

He felt himself relax as he just stood there, his eyes exploring the landscape before taking a few steps out into the woods. He let himself circle around, looking every which way possible for danger before putting away his bow and quiver back on his bags. He had a lot of ground to cover and a lot of time to do so, even though daytime meant humans it also meant no monstrous obstacles in the way. And with that he began his journey to a place he’s been before, using it to act like a temporary home while he spends the next few weeks finding yet another hidey-hole… 

  
  


* * *

  
  


George woke up earlier than the rest of his household today, tiptoeing around his cottage as he packed up the last of his needed supplies to hopefully soon head out to a place he found on an ancient map. He’s spent a good few years learning how to read and decode some of the unknown languages in old books and pieces of parchment he’s found in old chests, and at the stellar age of fifteen he finally felt brave enough to venture out from his familial home.

He left when the sun started to rise above the horizon, quickly speedwalking down the dirt road in the hopes of not being caught by nosey neighbors. A youngster leaving past the protective walls has always been forbidden in order to protect the living inside from the many different types of dangers out beyond. The law was in place way before George was ever born and to this day it was heavily enforced, but not when you know who’s the lazier guard on watch. 

George wasn't all too scared of getting caught nor stumbling upon the creatures he’s heard many scary stories about for years and years on end, he’s read his fair share of books on what to do with every monster that lurked in the shadows. All their weaknesses, their strengths, even learning where to strike a killing blow. Plus George had something no one else in the village had; a beautifully handcrafted diamond dagger that’s been in his family for generations, it’s said that it came from the Great War hundreds of years ago and by the looks of it he can't argue with that. The thing has had its fair share of chips and blemishes, but it was still a weapon to be weary of. It was diamond after all.

When George took his first steps outside of the walls while the guard on watch was from what it looked like napping on the job, he rushed under the cover of the large birches and grand oaks that formed the forest just outside the gate, and once he was sure no one would see him he set his pack down and took out his map along with his father’s compass. He was only going to be sitting here for a short while, planning out his route to the entrance of a cave that will lead him all the way down to an abandoned mineshaft, and hopefully down there will be the answers he’s been looking for.

From what he read the series of caves used to be the old mining grounds of a fallen empire that took place in the war, mining the rich iron and the said diamonds that resided deep within the heart of the mountain. As much as diamonds sounded enticing, George wasn't in the search for obvious riches. He was more after the items they left behind. The many knick knacks that still littered the miner’s residential keeps to the many scrolls found in the commander’s office. The mountain used to be a mine, but it was converted into a military base before its abandonment and that was what George was after.

_All of the secrets the mountain held within!_

Just thinking about it right now made him jump in excitement with a smile plastered upon his stupid face. He happily pulled his heavy pack straps around his shoulders before adjusting his goggles from his forehead to over his eyes, and now he was ready. With his map and compass at hand he began to start his long journey, taking the safest route he spent a good time planning… 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Dream made it to his destination before nightfall, right as the sun began to set over the treetops. He was happy with the results, usually it took him a lot longer to get here but that was during the night. Who knew during the day sped travel up tenfold? 

He approached the main entrance, taking a sharp left to walk past it and into the wilderness up the mountain. He remembers stumbling upon a caved in entrance on his last visit, the crevasse in the ground being out of the way enough to be overlooked and new enough to be less known. Sliding down the fine pile of silt with his bow and arrow at hand he was finally in the mine. He stayed still for a moment in search of any sound of danger, but nothing answered back through the winding chasms of the mine. It was comfortably silent.

Once he was sure he was alone, he started walking down the pathway and deeper into darkness. He still had his bow at hand, but he felt more relaxed than he did on his trek here hours before. He knows the past of this mountain, knows this was a place of planning and evil during the Great War, but months ago he’s already purged this place of its undead. Making it hollow like it should be.

Despite hating this place the mine was heavily fortified, and he felt like its only purpose now is to be a plan B of sorts. Who knew this place was to become an Enderman’s domain? He felt a bit of pride there, as if stepping into this place to declare it his own was some sort of revenge for his kind. By now he got cocky, walking faster until he was running down the halls of rock and ore. His heart was pumping and his breath was jagged, but it wasn’t because of fear. It was something far different from it.

He smiled as he slid on the balls of his clawed feet against the grainey floor to stop himself from his run all before letting out a booming, hearty laugh. He’s missed the old feeling of triumph, he’s starting to remember everything he did last in this mine. How he took on many hordes of zombies, dozens of skeletons aiming to kill, swarms of cave spiders that almost had him. Yes it was indeed a stupid idea for him to take on the mountain completely alone, but coming out alive after never felt better. For once in his life he felt untouchable, like he wasn’t at risk every second of the day. Maybe he should give himself more credit?

But the heroic nostalgia was short lived.

The sound of something small falling echoed down the long passageways of rock, causing him to spring into action via instinct, aiming his bow into the darkness of where he expected the sound came from. Nothing more followed after, but as he narrowed his eyes down at the long passage he could see the faint glow of a match, or maybe a torch? It was too far to really tell, but from the color of the light he knew exactly what that meant.

_Human._

  
  


* * *

  
  


George was still stuck in the mountain after finding the Commander’s office around an hour ago, it's just every turn he made that felt right somehow led him deeper, and now there was a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach and deep rooted fear started to crawl up his spine. He held out a small torch in front of him, eyes darting from path to path before landing on a familiar box of old dynamite he’s seen at least five times by now… 

With a loud huff George fell to his rump after dropping his bulky pack down next to him, tears formed at the corners of his eyes before he grabbed at his goggles to roughly rub at his face with his sleeve. He knew he couldn't give up just yet, but the feeling of hopelessness started to rear its ugly head. 

With a loud frustrated groan he threw his goggles to the ground, ending up with one of the lenses shattering, and all he did was just stare at it with his lower lip quivering.

He started to softly sob which snowballed into a loud fuss, his body trembling while he continued to rub at his eyes as if that was the answer to stopping his tears. He spent a few moments like this before a startling sound from one of the passageways pried him away from his crying. Something deep within him felt that frozen feeling of being watched, the feeling a cold pair of eyes staring down at him.

Geoge sprung to his feet at the sound of something running towards him from the darkness. He had yet to see what it could be, but it was obviously nonhuman by the sound of its thudding feet meeting the ground with every long stride. He never thought he’d be in this situation, fight or flight still being decided all while his body was frozen like a sheep in headlights. The bitter feeling of knowing he’ll _never_ be able to outrun it.

His eyes quickly darted at everything he could use, there was his trusty dagger but it wouldn't do much good to the large sounding creature. Such a weapon would be a meer toothpick to the beast. He was running out of time and his body started shaking, his eyes fell onto the dynamite. With a level head George wouldn't even risk getting anywhere near it, but at this moment he felt like it was his best chance at survival.

At the courtesy of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, George quickly grabbed at what looked to be the most stable stick of dynamite and started running in the opposite direction. He ran so fast he felt like his lungs were about to scream at him to stop and his ears were ringing but he could still hear whatever came after him. And at the sound of a fire arrow whizzing by his head, he instantly chucked the stick right behind him and threw himself behind the closest corner.

He landed on his front, the side of his face skidding against the gravel in pain as the explosion rocked the mine, his hands over the back of his head as he felt crumbling rock and dust start to land onto him. Whatever that was chasing him screamed the most terrifying screech George has ever heard, and just the sound alone triggered him to get up and keep running into darkness. He didn’t care where he was going, just as long as he got away from whatever emitted those bone chilling shrieks. He can’t even register what kind of creature could let out such a thing, but that was the last of his worries.

George kept running until he hit a wall hard, falling onto his knees he was pretty stunned by the impact. His head was spinning and his body felt like it was on fire, he leaned his forehead against the wall all while he felt his limbs start to give out. It was completely silent in the mine now, except for George’s heavy breathing, and as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light he was able to see possible sunlight at the end of a tunnel.

_Of course out of everything that could happen, my life flashing before my eyes revealed the exitway._

_If only I had my pack…_

George sighed heavily, he couldn't leave all his supplies, his findings, his favorite goggles… his dagger… 

_His family is going to kill him if he doesn't bring back that dagger._

He felt himself breathe in and breathe out multiple times before stumbling up to his feet. He shakily took out the small box of matches from his side pocket, lighting one of them, and looking out into the darkness he came from…


	2. The Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George meet for the first time.

He thought humans were stupid, but not _this_ stupid.

The second the boy grabbed the 200 year old dynamite Dream was quite surprised the human made it this far. And that the stick didn't go off just from touch alone. He was still in pursuit however, but kept a bit of distance all while pulling back an arrow he lit meer seconds ago.

_Lil’ bugger’s really moving-_

The arrow missed nearly by an inch off the kid’s head, causing him to mentally curse to himself, and as he was grabbing for another from his quiver… time started to stop all together. There wasn't enough time for his brain to complete a simple thought when the stick of dynamite was thrown overhead, hitting the ceiling above.

**_Detinating._ **

He tried his best to hit the brakes, tried everything to jump back… but it was all too late.

His body was thrown back in a brief fiery blaze, knocking his back to the ground all while the heavy rubble started to cover his lower half, forcing out a scream through gritted teeth. He could physically hear the cracking of bone travel up his spine to his ears, the pain getting worse as the pile of stones got heavier with every passing second until he couldn't feel his legs no more. His mind was blank and his heart felt weak all while his screams started to die down, he felt like he could pass out at any moment…

He was quickly blinking awake at the sound of footsteps, his eyes flickering down a connecting corridor, and seeing double of the boy’s lit match as the kid approached. He knew he should've seen it coming, the mine was like a maze. Everything was connected.

He kept silent and still as he felt the boy stepping around him, being sure to keep his distance, and swiftly sprinting down the tunnel.

_Of course. Make a break for it, just like your fucking specie-_

The moment the human stopped and the sound of the bag jingling echoed down the mine, Dream couldn't help but hiss. He really started to struggle, wanting to quickly get out from under the rocks. He wasn't ready to die here, like this, and especially to a human child. He always felt he deserved a hero’s death, and with that motivation he could move mountains. But that was just the pep talk in his head. The fact was no matter how much he tried, he wasn't even able to move one boulder off of him, but it didn't mean he’d give up so soon… 

  
  


* * *

  
  


When the sound of the hiss knocked against his eardrums George sprung to his feet as if a snake just bit him, his head snapping to the creature trapped and shrouded in darkness. He could barely see it with the dim light of his match and how far he was from it, but he could obviously see it was long, slender… and black…

_An Enderman?!_

George stumbled over his own feet when he tried to run, landing right on his rump as he shuffled back in fear. He’s heard all of the stories about these creatures, every single horror and nightmare. How they strip the flesh off their victims, their slender fingers wrapping around the necks of men like the end of a noose, just the sight of them can kill from fright… Their fangs sharpened and pointy made perfectly for ripping one's throat out-

_Worst of all… they can teleport-_

He was gasping for air at this point, trying to get back up to his feet but every try ended up in failure. _He was just that afraid._ His heartbeat was so fast he couldn't even feel a single beat and his breathing was so erratic it made his hands numb, and before finding out if he can even make it or not a small part of his rational brain fought through to the front of the chaos. 

_Wait! If they could teleport, why did this one not avoid the cave in? It had every chance to do so, but why didn't it?_

George sat there unmoving while staring down the tunnel at the dark being, the match on the floor dimming until finally going out. Taking the box out from his pocket he lit another before slowly rising to his feet to quickly fumble for his torch, lighting it with his match, and finally getting a good look at the lanky creature.

It was really moving now, looking like it focused more on getting the rocks off of its lean legs than just struggling all together. That perplexed George, it was as if the creature possessed thoughts instead of just thrashing about like a mindless animal. It had a way of doing things, it seemed to pick the easiest of rocks off of its body from the top to bottom. But even with its clever strategy, it couldn't possibly free itself because of the amount of rock it was trapped under.

_It couldn't get free alone._

Taking a small step forward something caught George’s eye, making him stop in his tracks all together. There was some sort of glint shining back at him coming from the creature, it wasn't the eyes of the being he was sure of it. The shines were coming from all around its body, and from what George has read he’s pretty sure Endermen are not reflective like a fish.

He was lenient on getting closer but guided by his curiosity he couldn't help but approach. By now he can somewhat see what was reflecting light, an armored headpiece with two slits for eyes laid on its side a few feet from the lanky being. The creature was still now, its eyes staring directly into George’s soul, and just from that feeling alone he couldn't help but shudder. Keeping eye contact the thing reached over to drag the helmet closer to itself, stopping when the headwear was pulled up to his chest and neck. Cradling it as if it was something of importance. 

George could feel as if it was trying to communicate. He could see the glowing green pupils the thing possessed. It was haunting, so foreign and eerie he could not figure out nor understand what it was conveying. George has never felt something like this… never knew he would ever feel something like this, in this moment. Shaking his head to clear it, his eyes reverted down to the torso of the creature. The helmet wasn't all it possessed, his eyes widened at the sight of shoulder and arm guards, and with that he absentmindedly took another step closer.

_Endermen don’t have… armor…_

He was sure of it. Every text he’s ever read of such the species all explained how Endermen were savage, unstable beings similar to the multiple types of undead. Many books stated the reason they teleport is because they are the spawn of hell itself, demons that didn't belong in this world to begin with and deserved to be purged from it… 

_But was it true?_

He got closer but far enough to feel comfortable, kneeling down with his arm extended so the small torch’s light coated the dark skinned being, showing every small detail and slight scar that littered its body. It started to struggle again but even more than before, its hairless brows furrowed and fangs flashing with a growl, George pulled away in fear but quickly bounced back to stay observing such a bizarre case of monster. From being so close he was able to see the plates of metal that donned its body weren’t just any armor. It looked to be post-war… and definitely human crafted… 

_So strange to even think about-_

The next thing his eyes landed on were the tufts of fur around its neck, but it took George a moment to realize it wasn't actually part of the Enderman. It was a rugged cape caught under the monster, worn loosely around its shoulders.

_Endermen have never worn clothes…_

“What are you…?” George whispered out without much thought, but the Enderman’s snarling ceased slightly enough to pick up on.

_Wait, did you understand me?_

“Whoa- you understood me, or no…” George was somewhat taken back. There was no way it could be, right? That was just his own imagination, he swears it was but then he doesn't? But so far everything he’s ever learned about them was a lie? What was even the truth anymore?

The creature showed no noticeable change in its expression, but it was still laying there cautious and alert. George was a bit disappointed, he had so many questions and yet no answers. But, hey, at least there’s slight evidence of intelligence? Armor, cape, helmet, there had to be.

His eyes followed down the monster’s thin waist, ending on the pile of bone crushing rock that trapped it in place. Jagged stone and silt covered everything below its hips, making its legs look almost paper thin from the hip bone. The sight made him shrivel up on the inside, he felt sympathy for the being, it was horrifying… 

_Such a thing should never be in pain…_

In a heartbeat George did what he felt was the right thing, he lunged forward in order to help free the monster. If it is smart enough, it will recognize he’s freeing it, he was certain now, so certain, but he should've seen this coming. With one slash from the creature’s claw, George stumbled backwards all while his forearm started to bleed. He held it close to his chest, wincing from such pain. Opening his eyes he was afraid to look, but how bad could it be? Yes, his arm was indeed bleeding, but not all too bad. It hurt worse than it looked, and George prayed there wasn't a poison the books had left out of its pages. 

The Enderman was hissing loudly, one eye twitching with his teeth bared and claws at the ready just in case. 

_It’s so… afraid of me…_

“Sorry- sorry… I just wanna help, ok? Help?... It’s ok… it’s ok…” George cooed while rummaging in his bag for cloth, wrapping it around his injury. Once he was done he cautiously approached the beast again, taking his time to start shoveling silt and gravel with his hands, throwing it away behind him. It wasn't much, but it was at least something to calm the creature down… 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Dream just laid there watching the feeble attempts the human made at freeing him. He was so sure the human would come for his head the moment he laid eyes on him after the cave in. The kid could easily finish him off right now, bring an Enderman head home to show all of his peers, he’d be his village’s hero, celebrated for such savagery…

If he had to be honest he was quite dumbfounded that the boy chose this path, even going as far as wanting to help him. Right now he took this as another example of how unpredictable humans really are, and the important fact that they can never be something to put trust in… 

_Why are you the way that you are…_

Twenty minutes have already passed since the kid started, he was quite impressed humans had an attention span that lasted over five. The boy had his own keen routine, taking little breaks every couple minutes before continuing his hard work, Dream could say that was one strategy he’d abide to.

_How odd, relating to humans. That's a new one for you-_

When it reached the forty minute mark he could finally wiggle his toes from one leg but not the other. He took some extra time waiting, hoping he could wiggle his toes when the teen removed just a few more rocks, but the feeling in his leg never came back like he hoped for. Internally sighing, he now fully knew the limb was completely broken, hoping to god it wasn't at all life threatening. He could easily fix it using healing potions, but it was all about staying alive to do so. He accepted the blast shattered every potion on his belt, and reaching down he felt the sting of broken glass, his assumptions were correct.

He let out an audible growl of frustration without thought, causing the kid to jump out of his skin. He fluttered his eyes over to him, seeing the confusion and mild fear in the boy’s eyes. He didn't care how the human felt, but something in him wanted to give some sort of thank you for his pathetic efforts. Who knew these short beings had so much determination in them? Maybe that was the only good quality humans possessed.

He could see the way the human's eyes darted down his body, landing onto his leather belt and broken bottles. The way his eyebrows would rise drastically and fall was something he found amusing, as if having hair on your face wasn’t already expressive enough.

“What on earth-“ The teen let out, his gaze never leaving his belt. “You… you stole them from a witch? No? Maybe… you made them yourself?? Come on, please just say something- Please… Please?”

_God! This human is persistent!_

He just completely ignored him all while struggling to get free again, this time luck was on his side. A scream found his way up his throat when he finally got one leg free, it was the good one but it was indeed sharp from the rush of blood flowing into it. He has never felt something like this before, it was so much worse than waking up with the horrible feeling of a dead leg. He couldn't even imagine what the broken one would feel like… 

The human kept his distance and remained in silence all while he continued to struggle free, and once his last leg was pulled out from under the rubble, the kid came to his aid. 

Dream was crying against the floor, one leg bruised and beaten while the other was completely mangled from the pressure of the blast and rock. Everything felt worse than he would ever admit, the feeling of blood finally flowing into the leg and through shattered bone… He wished he wasn't awake for this… 

The lad took out a small jar of cream from his bag to frantically rub it on the good leg, the black skin instantly going tingly from the medicinal properties of whatever the kid had. He knew humans were skilled in mixing magical substances because of the war, but this wasn't something he expected. Whatever that was rubbed onto him was herbal, something he sometimes even uses on himself in battle when things got rough. It wasn't a heal all, but it really takes the edge off in times of need.

“This is going to sting-“ The human spoke before shakily applying it to the broken leg.

Dream has never let out a scream like that in his whole life, and right as it was at its worst it became at its best. He slowly brought himself to his feet with the help of the human, leaning against the wall of the cave all while breathing heavily awaiting for the pain to dull. He was able to stand, but _never_ to put weight on that one leg.

_Just enough to make it to the potion room-_

  
  


* * *

  
  


George watched in a mix of awe and pitiful terror when the creature stood to its full height, he almost stumbled backwards from tripping over his own feet just cause he did not expect it to be _this_ tall.

It towered over the average Enderman by perhaps a foot or two, a bit more muscle mass in the arms and shoulders all while still having the lean body type as the average midnight being. He could see something different about this creature now, bioluminescent green markings covered it from head to thigh, the dark spots finally lighting up brightly the moment it got to its feet. George guessed it was because of blood flow, or maybe the creature had no reason to hide them.

There is nothing in the books about markings like these nor stories did not speak of them either. This wasn't something to overlook, George knew he had something rare, something so ancient in front of him. He has to know everything it held in that head of its. Maybe this is what he’s been looking for this whole time? Finally answers to every question books couldn't provide?

_What is…_ **_he_ ** _?_

George remained silent despite wanting to ask everything he could think of, even if _he_ couldn't understand english, and before he could collect his thoughts the tall being started his slow trek down a corridor, always leaning his body weight against the wall all while dragging his useless, mangled leg behind him.

“W- Wait!” He stammered, quickly picking up his bag and following behind. “I’m coming with!”

The creature growled momentarily while stopping, looking back to stare down at George and then facing away as if he accepted him to follow. With a smile George took his offer, slowly walking beside him with his torch lighting their way into the unknown.

“So… where are we going, actually?” He was still holding onto a reply, he didn't fully believe this thing couldn’t understand him. It had to have at least learned bits and pieces of english along its way in life, Endermen lived very long lives from what he’s been reading about. They were apparently allergic to water, too…

_I wonder if that’s true…_

They walked in complete silence the rest of the way, finally coming to a stop in front of a large doorway. The door was a mix of metal and wood, strangely thick and partially open… 

George’s eyes darted up at the creature as he narrowed his eyes at the sliver of room shown from behind the door. His claw drew from his thigh all the way up to the sword in its sheath. When he took out his sword, George almost made a surprised yelp at how the weapon was almost the size of himself… _and it was diamond._ He couldn't believe his eyes, watching intensely while the being drew close to the doorway before weakly pushing it open and readying to slash anything that comes out via balancing on one leg.

Thankfully the only threat inside were hungry silverfish, and the sound of the door being swung open startled them all away. Scattering this way and that. They were nothing to be afraid of.

The Enderman stumbled into the room, falling onto the ground with a rather loud grunt. George crouched down to him, he wanted to help in some kind of way but before he could figure it out the being already helped himself by dragging his body all the way to a nearby counter. That’s when George realized what kind of room they were in.

Brewing stands and dark jars of various preserved items littered the countertops and many high shelves above their heads. Some were on the ground broken into a million pieces but others looked to be used and well taken care of. Even some jars looked rather new… 

_This is how he does it??_

“This is… your room…” George stared over at him starry eyed. The monster darted his eyes over at him before going back to fumbling with a few jars and groaning in frustration. He looked rather upset. “... What’s wrong?”

He walked over while observing the Enderman’s body language as reading for some kind of communication. He didn't appear to be any kind of aggro, more like he didn’t wanna admit he needed help. In his hands were two small jars, one filled with some kind of red substance and the other filled with something that was heavily decomposed, George couldn't guess what it used to be.

_Ahh. He’s missing an ingredient._

“So what’s supposed to be in this jar?” George tapped his index finger against the glass, eyes darting to the jar and back up into the eyes of the beast.

His slitted pupils narrowed at the boy before looking elsewhere in silence as if he was scanning the room, then finally taking what Geoge guessed was a heavy sigh.

**“Melons.”**

George promised himself he would never freak out at something so small, but hearing a monster speak for the first time almost stopped his heart entirely. He was a deer in headlights for a good five seconds before bursting out into chaotic laughter, rubbing the back of his neck and then hugging himself.

“You’ve got to be kidding-! You- you just t-!”

**“Look. Shut up and listen.”** The Enderman spoke, cutting off the human completely. **“I will die if I don't get this melon. I already have netherwart here and… Ah shit- I need gold as well-!”**

He pounded his fist hard against the counter in a fit of frustration, making George jump and listen. A moment of silence went by before he piped up.

“What if… I get them for you- My mom grows melons! A- and we have gold! They're like these little trinkets, but I don't really care for them- I use them as paperweights for my desk anywa-“

**“Shut it. Please. I need to think,** **_human._ ** **”**

  
  


* * *

  
  


Things weren't looking up for him. He already felt it deep within his gut. It's actually the reason why he exposed his ability to speak english to the lad. While being raised by the side of Illagers, Dream was taught to never let the enemy get a leg up on you. Know their language, eavesdrop on their plans, play dumb if they ever caught you. Knowledge was the perfect weapon. But right now, it was the only way to survive.

He could feel it already, the pain went from severe to nothing and his head became foggier with every hop on his good leg he did. He felt his bones grow heavier and his eyes start to droop, and he wasn't even standing up! All of these were not a good sign… 

_And this human is all I have to save me… such a disappointment, an embarrassment…_

_But you don't have many options now, do you?_

He looked back up at the boy, the lad’s brows were furrowed and the side of his scraped up face was already scabbing and he could see in his eyes that genuine innocence that humans have before they grow up to be bloodthirsty animals… 

**“You have to do it. There’s no other way for me…”**

The way his face lit up startled Dream, how his eyes grew to be like enderpearls and smile so wide like a Strider’s was something so new to him he didn't even know how to react at first. He’s seen only faces of terror… fear… death… 

Smiles and happiness… this was the last thing Dream ever thought he’d ever see in his long lifetime. Especially from a _human._

“... Really? Me? Alright! I’ll do it! But we have to make a deal.” He smirked up at him, looking so smug planning out whatever he had in store in that little head of his.

Dream wanted nothing of it, but knowing how stubborn and heartless humans were it wasn't wise to ignore their demands… 

**“Ok… what is it?”**

He put his little hands together, smiling from ear to ear, it made the Enderman wince and he knew immediately he wasn't going to like this.

“You have to teach me about magic- or just about where you come from? Why you aren't… like the others…” The boy gestured to all of him, looking away as if he was guilty for doing something wrong. Or maybe he was deep in thought? It was hard for him to read humans when they weren't hostile or face to face with death.

_Hm. I guess 200 years does it._

**“You don't… know, huh…”**

_How were humans supposed to change,_ **_IF_ ** _they could in the first place? Seems like their short lifespan is their downfall, but maybe things are best left where they should be in the past…_

“Yeah… that’s why I am here… in the mountain-“ His eyes flicked back up to the Enderman. “I was just here to gather up knowledge.”

_Now this is a twist._

**“Really? Not here for other things? Weapons? These brewing stands? Even diamonds?”** It was hard to believe.

“You can check my bag.” He said flatly, eyeing the pack before looking back up at him. “... but, do we have a deal…?”

Dream’s eyes darted around the room while deep in thought. He _did not_ want to teach this human anything, that’s the last thing he ever wanted. But he wanted to live even more.

_One lie for my life, no biggie._

**“Ok… deal.”** He lied, he’ll just bounce and never see the kid ever again the second his leg heals. Things will be good.

The kid smiled so brightly Dream thought he could go blind. “Yes! Yes! Ok, I’ll have to leave- like- now to get home in time to bring you melons, you look pretty beat if I gotta be honest…” He tried his hardest not to look at the broken leg.

**“Forgetting something?”** Dream was losing his patience.

“Oh! And I won't forget the gold! Gold and melons… melons and gold… ok, got it…” He was up on his feet now, circling his bag to then finally pull it up onto his back.

He was about ready to leave, but he jumped at the brand new thought that just popped into his head. He started to turn around to then make eye contact with the other. “... Are you gonna be ok… here? Alone?”

**“Not if you keep wasting time.”** He snorted and rubbed at his good leg that started cramping. **“Please- just leave now-“**

He was really getting fed up with this kid, but something deep inside him actually felt some sort of sadness for his departure.

_Fucking stupid._

The human nodded but before turning for the door he walked back over to him. Dream couldn't believe he was actually living that very moment when the boy wrapped his arms around his torso, gently caressing him into a hug before quickly pulling away to start walking for the door. 

He gripped the doorframe, stopping in his tracks to look back once again and share a smile. “Be ok…”

And then he was gone. Leaving Dream all alone and totally speechless inside that cold, damp room.

_What the fuck just happened?_

He couldn't even believe it. How could this even be real? Why did his neck feel hot and his heart actually skip a beat? Why even show such a reaction to the slightest affection, it’s been years since anything has ever touched him let alone hug him… And why even care for the affection from a _human?_ He just didn't want to think anymore, he didn't want to think of the boy anymore. He just wanted to crawl up into that little hole of his and never come out ever again. How could he even care about such a devilish creature? He’s meant to hunt them, not speak to them, not be _hugged_ by them.

_How could a creature possessing a twisted, dark heart ever care for me…_

Using his cape he turned it into his temporary bedding on the ground, curling up on top of it while the fur collar acted as his pillow. He just laid there… silent and still until he finally fell asleep hours later… 

The only thought on his mind being that boy with the white goggles… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! We are getting closer to the angst(the best part of the story) I’m so excited! Next chapter we join Dream in watching George grow up! 
> 
> We also have some lovely fanart by @Pika_beetch on Instagram, at the end of this chapter! Please check out their work! <3


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